


there are no happy endings, because nothing ever ends

by daahrling



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Slow Burn, also expect the Worst puns, ill try to also explore some of the friendships in the relationships thing, might hint at other routes but its definitely not a focus, some Shit will go down at one point but thats not for a while lol, the prologue establishes the relationship and then jumps back to when they met, this is going to be mostly fluff but theres going to be hurt/comfort and also like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 12:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daahrling/pseuds/daahrling
Summary: “Lir said, "It is my right. A hero is entitled to his happy ending, when it comes at last." But Schmendrick answered, "This is not the end, either for you or for her.”-Peter S. Beagle, The Last UnicornThings are good, everything considered. Mettaton and Sans are on the brink of something wonderful, and filled with bliss. It took some time to get to that point, and it had it's own set of obstacles, while life-changing things are happening in the underground, and feelings are pushed aside in favor of becoming a part of history. But, after the end, there are loose strings to be tied up, and happiness to be had. Yet, what truly is a happy ending?





	there are no happy endings, because nothing ever ends

**Author's Note:**

> Is a prologue a professional logue? What even is a logue? It seems, according to google, a logue means a discourse of some kind, whatever that is supposed to mean. Does it really mean before a discourse? What the fuck is English, anyways. Language is a farce- but without it I wouldn't be writing any of this, so I won't look this particular gift-horse in the mouth.

Being the star of the underground had been tiring enough, but the world of human celebrities made his previous position seem like child's play. Mettaton sighed, setting down the script of his latest film appearance, and leaned forward to scrutinize his reflection in the mirror. Not a hair out of place, and no smudging in his makeup. Perfect.  
  
Maybe after this movie he'd take a bit of a break. Sans had said he looked like he'd been running himself thin anyways, and he thought he should try to put his boyfriend's mind at ease. Not to mention that it'd create more public excitement for whatever his next artistic endeavor was.  
  
The robot rose, heels clicking softly on the floor as he took a light jacket from a nearby hook, donning it and the pair of sunglasses he fished from its pockets. He didn't mind the paparazzi, say, but the paparazzi of the surface was too invasive, even for him, sometimes. Mettaton just wanted to get home peacefully for once.  
  
From his other pocket, he produced his cellphone, which was bedazzled with perhaps too many rhinestones, and from which a multitude of cellphone charms that Alphys had given him were dangling. Typing out a quick text telling Sans that he was done shooting for the day, he hit send and left his dressing room. No one stopped him on his way to the parking lot, for he'd just flash them a quick smile and inform them that he didn't have time for a chat.

Once he reached the parking lot, the celebrity bot glanced around, scanning for his car. He could certainly afford to go everywhere in his personal limousine, which he normally used for premieres and such, but there was something nice about the drive home that he enjoyed too much to give up. It was calming, to say to least.

He saw a blob of pink out of the corner of his eye, and turned, finally locating his car. It was a little pink convertible, sleek and low to the ground. His baby! Twice every month, or more if it managed to get dirty, he took it to get waxed. A superstar like him couldn’t afford to have an ugly car, or a car that wasn’t as sparkling as he deserved. Speaking of which, it looked like he should take his baby to the wash again soon.

 _Enough of that._ Scolding himself for getting distracted by something of little importance as the sheen of his car, he hit the unlock button on the keyring, and climbed in. There was no need to dawdle, when he had gone through the trouble to remain unseen by the paparazzi.  
  
The rest of the trip home went as smoothly as the beginning, and Mettaton hummed idly along to the radio as he drove. Maybe he should produce another album; he didn't hear any of his songs the whole duration of the ride. It wasn't particularly worrying or anything- he'd felt rather lighthearted and hopeful for a while now.

Mettaton pulled into the driveway of the home he shared with Alphys and Undyne, and it was not so different than what felt like so long ago now, when Mettaton was still a bit of a box, and as for his career, only at a bit of a start. Back then, it had only been him and Alphys living together, but it wasn’t as if Undyne was an unwelcome change. He fancied that he got along with her famously--Alphys had picked one of the better fish in the sea, if he didn’t say so himself.

Not that he was going to stay long, at the moment. Popping inside, he lingered to fill Alphys in on his day before he continued to his room to change into more comfortable clothing. Before he left again, he looked himself in the mirror, quickly checking his reflection once more. It was more force of habit at this point than anything.

Satisfied with what he saw, he turned, just to stop again as he informed Alphys where he was heading, although it wasn’t as if she didn’t already know. Mettaton spent most of his free time at the skelebros’; moreso, than he even spent with Alphys, lately. The other day, Undyne had teased him about it. “ _Why don’t you make it official and move the rest of your things there? It feels like you’re visiting here, rather than the other way around!!”_ She certainly had a point, but the idea had stuck with him oddly. Perhaps he finally _would_ make it official. There was nothing stopping him, although, actually thinking about the prospect both made him giddy, and admittedly nervous.

With one last wave (and one last kiss, blown in Alphys’ general direction), the bot left, strolling down towards Sans and Papyrus’ house. This entire neighborhood was filled with mostly monsters, and primarily ones that Mettaton had come to know well through Frisk. The human lived with the former queen of monsters down the street, past a small park. The thought of the two brought a smile to his lips, Toriel was a sweetheart, and there simply weren’t words for the gratitude and love he had for Frisk. He made a mental note to make a visit over there later in the week, since his busy schedule had kept him from seeing the little darling for a while.

As he walked, Mettaton’s thoughts circled back to what Undyne had said, his brows furrowing in concentration. It was certainly a viable option, and wouldn’t be an excessive amount of effort; half his wardrobe already resided there as it was. Papyrus had even gotten him a toothbrush to leave there-- he felt touched, but there was something viscerally unappealing about using a toothbrush that was shaped like one of his legs. He really needed to figure out who was making these decisions in merchandising, because while he had certainly trademarked a saying or two about his legs, he really doubted that a leg-shaped toothbrush was really the way to go about promoting himself.

Beyond any of the little details- those were all far too easy to fix- there was still a bit of lingering doubt in his mind. What if Sans wasn’t ready to make that leap? What if _he_ wasn’t ready? Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to have one of his little heart-to-heart’s with Alphys again. He always felt more ready to face things after speaking with her.

Soon enough, though, he found himself standing on their doorstep, still thinking about the matter at hand, which gave him momentary pause, before he decidedly opened the door. He always got caught up in whether or not to knock these days, since he felt rude just walking in, but conversely, it felt to formal to sit there and knock when he knew Papyrus would usher him in, proclaiming there was no good reason to make himself a stranger, why, if he was so nervous being in the presence of The Great Papyrus he should just say something! And without a doubt, Sans would be there hanging back a few feet behind, ready to give a noncommittal shrug if Mettaton looked to him for help. It was both a frustratingly paradoxical situation and a welcoming one, and he still hadn’t found a good solution.

Yet, as soon as he opened the door, something was off. Papyrus was nowhere to be seen. Normally the lanky skeleton was the official head of the welcoming committee- self-appointed, naturally, and with a pageant sash he’d secured at a nearby garage sale- all smiles and interrogating him about his day. The glambot cast an incredulous glance at Sans, who was sitting nearby on the sofa.

“Pap’s out with Undyne on an evening jog,” he answered even before Mettaton even had a chance to ask. “They just started a new regimen. ‘Said that changing things up is good for their fightin’ spirit. I guess so, but the only fightin’ spirit I have is you when you’re on low battery.” Mettaton tittered lightly. “Ghost puns? Am I that hauntingly beautiful today? I must be outdoing myself.” He strolled over before not quite unceremoniously dropping himself onto the couch next to Sans. Raising one of his brow ridges curiously, a chuckle escaped the skeleton. “Long day, huh?”

He nodded, turning sideways to face him. “The director had us repeat the same scene at least a good score or two, the one I was telling you about the other day. I wasn’t even doing it wrong--my costar is an up and coming or whatever, but by his ego you’d think he had been in Hollywood since the day they built it.” He sighed. “I’m sick of talking about this horrid movie, though. I’ve been seriously thinking of taking a break from the movie business after this one. Return to my roots, y’know? I miss spending more time with everyone.”

Mettaton paused to sigh, before he casually reached for Sans’ hand, quietly lacing his fingers with his boyfriend’s. “How was your day, darling? Hopefully better than mine.” Sans considered it a moment before nodding. “It was pretty good. Alphys enlisted me to help her with part of her newest project. Undyne kept stopping by to try to offer us coffee, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself on her day off.”

Mettaton leaned his head on the back of the couch. “Oh, I think that Alphys dearest was telling me about that project the other day. Something about a new algorithm for artificial intelligence or along those lines.” He chuckled. “I’m glad she found a new project; I was starting to get weary of being woken up at odd hours at night to her telling me about self-cooking ramen, or how she was going to find out how to make Undyne a real-life magical girl. I bet she’ll do great with this.”

After a few more minutes of idle conversation, the robot sat up a little, looking around. “What would you like to do for dinner? Unless you and Papy already ate.” Sans, who had let his eyelids droop partway through their chat, opened his eye sockets again. “Pap made something he called “spaghetti-to-go” and took it with him. He took last night’s spaghetti and put in the blender. I was extremely proud, and to be honest, only just mildly horrified.” Mettaton grimaced, taking a moment to try to process the concept of liquified spaghetti, vaguely mortified. “I’m not so hungry anymore,” he said with a laugh, getting up. “I had a big lunch anyways.”

With an almost hesitant pace, he wandered over to the window that looked into the backyard, resting his hand on the windowsill. “Are you two going to something with your yard? Everytime I look out it looks so empty. I think it’d be simply perfect for a garden.” Sans turned to look over the back of the sofa at him, before shrugging, despite the fact that Mettaton wouldn’t be able to see him do it. “We’ve considered somethin’ of the sort before, but that plan hasn’t quite _bloomed_ yet.”

“I could plant it sometime,” Mettaton started, “Like, after I’m done filming the movie and all. I’ll have more free-time, and we could do it together. It’d be nice. I spend so much time here now, it’s as if I live here. Undyne was absolutely heckling me about it the other day.” He trailed off, unsure how to continue after having brought up what he’d been silently worrying about all evening. Feeling Sans’ hand on his arm, he turned to look at him, slightly surprised that he’d come over.

“Is that what you’ve been nervous about all evening?”, Sans inquired, his tone serious but laced with curiosity. He opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t immediately find words, his fans whirring with unease. Sans could read him like a book, which he was usually thankful for, but he didn’t want to admit his nerves tonight. “In all honesty, yes,” he admitted almost reluctantly, “It’s rather silly, I know.” The skeleton shook his head. “It’s not. When Pap says things about you always being welcome, he means it. And so do I, y’know. If you’re ready, I know Pap will be over the moon if you tell him that you’re movin’ in.”

Relief washed over Mettaton, and he fought off the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. “I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it at first, when Undyne brought it up jokingly”, he confessed, “But, I think it’ll be good. I was- I was thinking about all the time I’ve known you, and all the time I spent wanting to get to know you, all the time that I wanted to be close to you. And I realized, that while I’ve lived so many different places, and, they’ve all had people I love dearly- this was just always the place that made me feel like I was coming home.”

Sans smiled softly. “You’re a big sap, you know that?” Mettaton pushed at his shoulder affectionately, trying not to laugh. “If I am, it’s because you rubbed off on me. But, I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.”

And he truly meant it. Of all the time he’d known Sans, he wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. Things were picturesque, and he could easily imagine spending the rest of his life here in this warm house. It was worth it, after all the bumbling, all the issues of the Underground- this life on the surface was worth it.

 


End file.
